Beth started down the Capitol corridor, still struggling with her desire to run. At last she stopped at an imposing office door marked DEPARTMENT OF THE ARMY. She resisted the urge to turn back. Official business. Beth, you promised. With her hand on the doorknob, she pondered the heavy weight in her heart. Why do I feel as if I must do this? she wondered. I haven’t done anything wrong. Then why do I feel as if delivering Matthew’s message will somehow make up for my deception? She paused and shook her red curls into place. I don’t care about Matthew’s silly message, but I’ll do anything to get rid of this guilt. Brushing aside her doubts, she faced the door resolutely.
The door opened, and a uniformed man nearly collided with Beth. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he murmured. He looked at her more closely and said, grinning, “Didn’t have my wits about me. If there’s anyone inside who can introduce us, let me escort you in.”
“No, but I need to see someone. It’s urgent.”
His smile disappeared. “Come in then. Are you certain it’s the Department of the Army you want?”
“I was told to come here; it’s about the war.”
An older man came out of an office, hesitated, and came toward them. “Sir, this young lady wants to talk to you. Says it’s urgent.”
“Thank you, Henry. Come this way, Miss.” He gestured toward a chair and sat down behind the desk. “I’m Colonel Samson. Whatever you have to say will be held in confidence, and you’ll be protected if the matter warrants it.”
“I’m Elizabeth Peamble,” she started. “Colonel Samson, I don’t think it’s such a serious matter,” she said slowly. “I’ve just been in Richmond. It was at the train junction north of there where I met Matthew Thomas, a Union soldier. He asked me to come here with a message.”
Beth repeated Matthew’s message, adding, “It seemed so silly to be concerned about this, but I promised.”
“Do you know why he sent you here?”
She shook her head. “I’d guess it’s because he’s a soldier and someone here will recognize his name.”
The colonel stared absently at his tented fingers, then said, “I’ll see what we can do with the information. As you say, it’s not extremely—sensitive. But the statement about the Confederate Army is encouraging. Thank you for coming.”
At breakfast the next morning, Cynthia dropped a newspaper beside Beth’s plate and pointed to an article. In a surprise attack against the Federal Army, the Confederates under Beauregard’s leadership were able to separate marching divisions en route to the western battlefields and inflict severe damage on the unsuspecting army. Slowly she refolded the paper and contemplated the hard knot in her stomach.
“You don’t look too happy,” Cynthia said. “Don’t you realize you’ve made a strike for the Confederates?”
“I don’t think I’d like to be responsible for men being killed.”
“Someone’s going to be killed anyway; better them than us.”
“Cynthia,” Beth said slowly, “do you sometimes question whether slavery and the Southern cause are really right?”
Cynthia was silent a moment, then carefully she said, “I don’t have any doubts. Beth, since you’ve come back from Richmond, you don’t seem happy like you were before. What’s the problem?”
Beth sighed. “Maybe I’m growing up, changing my mind about some things. To tell the truth, I feel guilty about what I did.”
It was a long time before Cynthia asked, “You don’t intend getting out of this, do you? Beth, don’t even consider it. Stollen can’t afford a leak. Remember, he’s not the big boss; he’ll be trying to save his neck, too. I suggest you forget your silly little-girl emotions.”
Beth gave her a shaky smile. “I’ll try.” Inside she thought of Olivia and desperately willed her to come.
****
Two weeks passed, and then three, and still Olivia hadn’t come. Beth dressed for a walk and told Cynthia, “I’m going out. I need the fresh air, and I must check on my friend. I hope she isn’t ill, but at least I need to know.”
“How will you find her?”
“She said that the hospital where she works is close by. There are several hospitals in the area; I’ll start with the nearest.”
“You know Tim and Nat will be here this evening. Kathleen Cogall may accompany them.”
“I’ll be back,” Beth promised as she left the house.
After a short walk in the direction Olivia had indicated previously, Beth found the long, drab building with its small sign. “Union Hospital,” Beth murmured as she entered the barren hall. A steep flight of stairs wound upward, while double doors seemed to lead into the hospital itself.
She pushed at the doors and stepped through. The dim room was lined with cots, two deep. At the far end was a table. Several figures dressed in white were scattered through the room. One walked toward her, but Beth wasn’t aware of her. She saw and heard only the men.
Some lay without movement, while others tossed restlessly; she saw some who would never rise, and others sitting up. She looked at the expressions on their pale faces. Most turned uncaring from her gaze. She saw blood-soaked sheets and bandages that hid swollen stumps.
Olivia touched her arm. There was sympathy in her face. “Come outside, Beth.”
They went into the entrance hall, Beth shaking and breathing heavily. Olivia glanced up as Dr. Whitt came through the doors. “Mrs. Duncan, everything is under control. Why don’t you take your friend out for some air and sunshine? I think you both need it.”
Olivia nodded and looked at Beth. “I need to change my frock; come upstairs with me.”
While Olivia removed her soiled uniform and washed her face and hands, Beth looked around the room. “This is your home? Olivia, it’s terribly barren.”
“I come here only to sleep. You were so pale; do you feel better now?”
Beth nodded. “How do you stand it?”
“If it weren’t for the grace of God, I wouldn’t be able to.” Slowly she added, “Beth it’s terrible to see these young men in such agony. At times I hurt for them so badly, I nearly find myself complaining to heaven about the whole war.”
“If you think this has anything to do with God, how can you not complain?”
Olivia thought a moment before answering. “I do believe God cares deeply about what is happening, but there’s absolutely no way I can think this tragedy is of His doing. He’s given us the right to choose, even when our choices hurt Him deeply. I know in the end there is righteousness and justice, but now while we humans try to run our world—” she sighed and shook her head. “Apart from Jesus Christ, I couldn’t face life,” she concluded slowly as she sat down on the cot.
Astonishment filled Beth’s face. “Olivia, why did you say that?”
“Because we are all sinners. There’s no way possible for humans to please God without His help.”
“Then how—”
“Beth, it’s what Christ has done for us that counts. Accepting Him means we are clothed in the righteousness of God. I know you’re not willing to accept this, but don’t say you can’t. If I can believe God’s word, then anyone can. Believing means trusting God’s message to us, and being willing to make Him the most important part of life.”
Olivia got to her feet. “Beth, I’m sorry. I can see you’re troubled. Want to talk?” She touched Beth’s shoulder. “Forgive me; it’s just the only way I know to deal with the difficulties we face. Only the dear Lord knows how much misery we’ve pulled in upon ourselves.”
“Your nice doctor suggested we walk,” Beth said with a shaky smile as she stood up.
“Fine. Let me brush my hair,” Olivia said, going to the table. She picked up the brooch and pinned it to her dress.
Beth touched the brooch. “You’re thin and you look tired. Why do you stay? You know Sadie would love to have you come back.”
“Right now I can’t,” Olivia whispered. “The only thing that makes much sense to me is being useful.”
Outside Olivia took a deep breath of air. “There’s music in the park this afternoon. Shall we walk that way?”
“A band?”
Olivia nodded. “Army band. I understand there’s a new piece of music they’ll be playing. I haven’t heard it, nor do I know the words, but I’ve been told President Lincoln is very fond of this song.”
“It’ll just be good to hear something lively,” Beth said.
When they reached the park gate, the band was playing and the grounds were filled with people. “Let’s stand up here on these steps,” Beth said. “We’ll have a better view.”
“It’s like looking down on a stage,” Olivia whispered. “The audience has become part of the play. Look at the tiny flags the people are wearing pinned to their lapels.”
Abruptly the drums began a heavy, rolling beat. The band stepped back. While the sun flashed from the horns, a troupe of uniformed men surged forward. Marching in position, they began to sing. Olivia felt the force of the words striking her, and she wiped away tears as she listened: “Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord…. I have seen Him in the watchfires of a hundred circling camps…. Glory, Glory, Hallelujah!…In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea…. As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free….”
The wind off the Potomac chilled the tears on Olivia’s cheeks as she lifted her face. She whispered, “His truth is marching on!”
The setting sun drew a final flash of light from the brass. The wind swept the people, stirring them back to life. When the soldiers marched from the park, Olivia saw the new spring in their step. From the crowd a wavering voice rose as an elderly man waved his hat. “God bless you soldier boys; God bless.”
Then Olivia saw Beth’s face. “It’s so scary,” Beth whispered. “It’s like being whirled, tossed with nothing to catch me. Oh, Olivia, there’s nothing steady and certain anymore. It seems everything I grab slides away from me.”
“God doesn’t slide away.” As Olivia spoke, Beth turned to listen. “He’s the only thing that won’t change or disappear. Beth, sometimes you remind me of a child chasing rainbows. You can’t look at the sky forever; you aren’t heeding your feet. Beth, my dear, I don’t want to see you fall.”
The girl was shivering, clasping her arms around herself. Olivia pulled open the bag she carried and took out a sheet of paper and a pencil. She wrote on the paper, stopped, wrote more. She nibbled at the pencil, brushed at her eyes, and wrote again. Finally she folded the paper into a tiny square and handed it to Beth. “Here, take this. It’s scriptures; you’ll have to find a Bible and look up the references. Someday, somewhere, these verses will be more valuable than gold. Please keep them until that day.”
Olivia stood up. “It’s nearly dark. We both need to go. Please come see me again. I’ve missed you.”
Olivia watched Beth hurry down the street. She turned back toward the hospital with a deep sense of loneliness. The damp wind made her shiver and she hurried inside and entered the long corridor filled with beds.
She saw the nurses and Dr. Whitt rushing from one bed to another. Mattie ran up to her. “Help us, please! They’ve just brought more patients, and some of them are critical.”
Olivia dropped her shawl and rolled up her sleeves as she hurried to the far end of the room. As she turned, Olivia saw the dark curly hair, the beard. She gasped and reached for a chair. It can’t be!
“My husband, that’s my husband!” Olivia gasped, running across the room, throwing herself to her knees beside the cot. The man’s face was bloodied, raw with festering wounds. “Alex, Alex!” Then she saw the man’s ear—smooth, unblemished, with no sign of a gold ring. Slowly she stood and turned, staggering as she walked toward Dr. Whitt.
“Olivia, we can get along without you.”
She focused on his face and blinked. “No I’ll stay. I can’t go up to that room now. Don’t you see? I’ll be more alone than ever. It’s better if I stay down here. My husband is dead, really dead, and now I think I’d better accept it.”
****
Alex got to his feet and moved around the damp, filthy concrete prison. His foot touched flesh. “Watch where you’re going,” came the snarl.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “My legs are cramping.”
The man grumbled, “This hole will kill us all.”
The close-packed group shifted, and the fetid odor of disease, human waste, and unwashed bodies assaulted Alex’s nostrils. He heard, “How long does it take to die in a place like this?”
Alex peered at the man who had spoken. “Aw, Stenson! You’ve got to want to live. I don’t think a one of us is beyond survival unless we give up.” Thoughtfully he added, “I think the Lord still has things for me to do. I’m hoping to go home, to see my wife and our baby born last March. It’s hard, but trusting God is the only thing that counts.”
He paused, thinking, “I’ve learned plenty since I’ve been here. I thought life was tough back in camp; now that seems wonderful. Plenty to eat, freedom—”
“Why don’t you fellows hush it up? It’s getting close to midnight. I need my sleep. Got a field to plow tomorrow.” Silence greeted the feeble joke. For a moment Alex listened to the snores, then carefully made his way to the barred window. The moon was waning, but there was enough light to see trees, buildings, lights glowing in windows, carriages, and the Confederate flag snapping in the breeze.
With his face close to the fresh air, he tried to figure out the days that had passed since the Rebel soldiers had crashed through his post that March night. It could be late May or early June by now.
Arnold joined him at the window. Alex glanced down at the slight man. The moonlight dug dark caverns on the man’s face. “Mind if I join you?”
“Help yourself to some air, so far there’s a decent supply.”
“I could use some water. Alex, you said you’ve learned plenty. What do you mean?”
Alex turned back to the window. “Prison isn’t all bad. Maybe it was good for what ailed me.”
“I can’t see any good in it.”
“Arnold, I realize now I had a pretty childish idea about God. My want list was too long and my give list too short.” He looked at the bony face and continued, “I’d been complaining to the Lord about a number of things back in camp. Now there’s real peace in me, knowing God has all this under His control. In addition to His promises—”
“He’s made promises for this?”
“Yes. He promises that no matter what our circumstances, He will provide a way of escape that will enable us to bear—” Alex stopped suddenly. “But on the other hand, that sounds pretty much as if that’s happening right now. Arnold, I’ve been feeling good about the presence of God, almost content and at peace in this situation because of Him. Now it appears it’s just the working out of those very words, a result we should expect. It’s real, this encounter with God. Do you know that?”
“Yes, but I guess He’s not as real to me as He is to you. I can’t see a way of escape.” His voice dropped dismally. “Earlier this evening, you sounded like you were planning something. Alex, you outta your mind? We’re nigh on to rotting in this place; don’t give us no bright talk now.”
Alex’s voice rose insistently over Arnold’s. “For me it’s confidence in His ability to work out the very best possible solution to all of this. But the peace came when I accepted God’s unknown plan as being worthy of waiting for, with a good deal more serenity than I’m capable of all on my own.”
Arnold moved away. “Guess I’d better lie down; I’m getting fuzzy in the head.”
There was a crunch outside the window. Alex grasped the bars and pulled himself up, panting with the exertion. He saw dark forms, and a slash of white teeth. He grinned and dropped back down.
“What is it?” Arnold asked.
“Might be some slave trying to meet his sweetie under the trees. Might be the same fellow I saw a couple of days ago.”
He heard the crunch again, but was too tired to pull himself up to the bars. Even the squeak of metal didn’t call him back to the window. Alex found a place to lie down and soon was able to sleep.
When he awakened, the moon had spread a path of bright stripes across the roomful of men. Turning on his side, Alex noticed the bands of dark seemed to weight the room with a double burden of bondage. He heard a whisper of feet in the corridor.
Now wide awake, he moved to the barred doorway, hoping for a breath of air. By pressing against the bars he could see down the hallway. At the end there was more light and shadow. A whisper. A darker shadow stopped before the bars, and Alex stepped away from the door. There was a the clink of metal, a grating noise followed by more clinks. The door swung open.
Excitement surged through Alex. A guard, and he doesn’t know I’m here! He raised his fist, took a step, then stopped. Their guard wasn’t a black man, but this man was. The figure slipped through the door.
The man turned and listened. Alex heard quick steps and a strangled exclamation, followed by a dull thud and a muffled plop. The newcomer grabbed Alex. “Ya’ll soldiers? Wanna come out? Follow us.”
For a moment Alex’s hands hung limp. Behind him an incredulous gasp rippled through the room. “Quiet!” he whispered.
Now moving like floating shadows, the men flooded into the hall and out the door. Alex brought up the rear. By the dim light of the lantern, he saw the guard sagging against the door, his blood making a dark puddle around him.
Sucking his lungs full of fresh air, Alex stretched his legs, stepping carefully at first, then hurrying after the dark figure.
Their benefactor was as black as the night and moved as stealthily, leading them behind the line of warehouses along the river. “Go fast!”
They headed for the river. The black man pointed. “Barge,” he breathed. Alex saw a line of dark figures holding the barge steady with poles. Lumber and empty sacks were piled in the center of the barge. The black man gestured, and one by one they slipped into the water, crawled up onto the barge, and crept under the sacks.
Their barge floated into the channel. Alex stretched out beneath a smelly gunny sack and watched the stars while he breathed the musty river air. They were moving eastward, toward the ocean. When the trees along the river thickened and the last barking dog had been left behind, their rescuer beached the barge. “Hurry! Let’s get back into the trees!”
Alex heard the shouts, saw lanterns, and heard the baying of hounds. “Ya’ll hurry straight ahead! There’s more water; we’ll kill the scent before the hounds git here. Move!”
“God!” Alex whispered, knowing only He could get the weakened men safely away.
They followed the shallow creek downstream until their leader climbed up the bank and beckoned them to follow.
When they were deep in the trees, the fellow said, “Union Army, suh; we been watching that prison for some time. Been down in the Carolinas on the islands. Now we’re headed for the West. Before we go, we decided to see if we could pick the locks on that prison.”
“Where do we go from here?”
A voice answered, “I don’t care where you go. I’ve had enough fighting and prison. I’m going over the hill.”
The grin disappeared and the black man said, “You’s free men. If you wanna come with us, we’ll try to get you to the Union men.”
“I’ll take my chances. Thanks for the help, buddy. I’m going home to see my wife and family. Anybody with me?”
Alex clenched his fists and watched shadowy figures move around the speaker. “If’n you’re coming with me,” the black man said, “head this way. We’ve got a goodly march ahead of us just to catch up with the rest of them. Here’s some hardtack and cheese to keep you until breakfast.”
Slowly Alex got to his feet and went to stand with the black man. “Hey, buddy,” a voice called, “thought you said you have a baby you haven’t seen. Come on; you can always come back and fight.”
“Don’t think I will,” Alex said. “I’ll just stick it out. If I go, sure enough, the war could be over before I get back.”